Page 84 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

“That is what he said, but I simply saw different people. Different ways of thinking and doing. Just…different.”

“You were not allowed in the dangerous places.” India was more than merely different. Some places were savage.

“You were captured.” He couldn’t tell if that was a question or a statement.

“Not the first time.” He flipped his hand over, needing to grip her fingers. He was trying to be honest, but God, what an arrogant idiot he’d been.

“I enjoyed the ledger part of the work. Don’t tell Ash. I’ve never admitted it to anyone, but the numbers line up in my head easily. Always have.”

“That’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“Tell that to a young boy judged purely on his ability to swive everything in a skirt.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand. “I promise not to tell a soul.”

He returned the squeeze and allowed himself a moment to focus on her breasts. Sweet, beautiful breasts that fit so nicely in his hands and responded to the smallest caress. He would touch them soon. He would marry them and the beautiful woman who possessed them. And soon, all these memories would fade away in favor of her pillowy softness.

“Peter?”

He forcibly reordered his thoughts. “I thought my task would be simple. I am an impressively sized man and a future earl. I assumed the Indian leaders would bow to my authority. They did not.”

“When you went to collect the taxes they owed?”

He nodded. “I thought the deviousness would be in the ledgers. That they would hide their wealth and not pay what was owed to England.”

“They didn’t hide it?”

“They did,” he said with a bitter chuckle. “But that was the smallest of the problems. They simply refused to pay. And there I was, thinking my name and my title were all that was needed.”

“Didn’t you have men with you? Soldiers or someone to protect you?”

“Certainly. But we were always few against many. And I was in the maharaja’s palace, demanding he pay money to a conqueror.”

Mari shook her head. “But it is a business. Didn’t you buy goods from them? Why were you collecting money from them?”

“I was not in charge of that part of the business.” He was impressed with her knowledge of basic practices. Most women would not understand even that. “We were conquerors. We sold them medicines that they did not want, clothing that they did not need, and taxed them for the privilege of working on their own land.”

“As bad as that?” she whispered.

He shrugged. “There were places that needed us. We built roads and bridges. We gave them a market for their goods. Some earnestly tried to help. Others…” His words trailed away as ugly memories surfaced.

“I’m sure you tried to help.”

He had. But that hadn’t been his job.

“I was sent to collect money from the maharajas. Initially, I was sent to teach me a lesson. I was an arrogant fool and needed to learn. Later, I went because I was good at it.”

“But how did you do it?”

“I studied the ledgers, figured out what was owed. Then when I asked for the money, I was refused.”

She frowned, clearly working hard on the problem. How to get money out of a maharaja who had no interest in paying? “Did you steal it?”

“Not the first time, though that became one of my best tactics.”

“That’s how you got gaoled.”

He nodded. “A few times.” He glanced away, unable to express how dangerous prison was. Trapped like a rat in a hole, surviving only by the whim of the guards and the dubious attention of the maharaja. Many times he felt more animal than man.